


Heartsong of War

by FlusteredWriter



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: Apollo bout to DIE, Ares is a Respectful King TM, F/M, I just want things to be properly tagged, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Revenge, Sad, This sounds way worse than it is I swear it's not like that, trauma response
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28281552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlusteredWriter/pseuds/FlusteredWriter
Summary: An alternate version of episode 86.Ares convinces Persephone to leave the line for Hades before she ever reaches the King of the Underworld. Her tiny little heart sings for war, and he has to know why.
Relationships: Ares/Persephone (Lore Olympus)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	Heartsong of War

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to tag as best I could, but one last warning! This fic references Persephone's assault and involves a trauma response as a result of that assault. This fic does not explicitly discuss the assault, but there is some heated stuff with Persephone and Ares. Enjoy!

Persephone felt more than heard Ares come up behind her, her body tensing up before her mind had a chance to even process his presence. The God of War felt like the air right before a lighting strike; charged, on edge, ready to explode in a beautiful flash. 

Her reaction made this all the more fun. 

"Ares," Persephone ground out, cursing today's horrid luck. 

"I thought you'd be happy to see me?" Gods, she was so cute, looking like she’d give anything to smack the smirk off his face. 

"Nope!" she replied cheerily, turning away from him, and he could tell she was trying to strengthen her resolve to ignore him while trying to get to Hades. But a ridiculous number of other beings had the same goal in mind today, if the miles-long line in front of them had anything to say about it. What was up with that?

"Nope?!" he echoed, and his glee visibly feeding into her annoyance. "Turning around won't make me go away, you know." If only. 

"What're you even doing here, Ares?"

"Don't look at me, you're the one calling for war."

Persephone grits her teeth in shame, tugging on her ever-growing hair. "....You heard that?"

Something in Ares softens at how small her voice gets, but a bigger part of him sharpens, a knife ready to spill the blood of whoever hurt what is arguably the nicest goddess in Olympus, if only she asked. He’d give her anything she wanted as soon as she asked, though he hardly let that on. "Like a sweet song. Little Kore, what happened to you?" he teases as he runs his hands through her hair, gathering it at the nape of her neck. "Last I saw you, you were so plump with optimism." He grins at the sharp look that earns. "Now you're an adorable little ball of fury. What complaints could you possibly have for the King of the Underworld?"

"It's nothing, and stop that!" She bats his hands out of her hair, trying to fix his pathetic attempt at a bun. "What do you even care, anyways?"

"I don't, it's just interesting." He levels his gaze at her. "You're interesting."

She huffs and turns away, trying to hide the flush rising in her cheeks. Adorable. "If you must know, I'm mad at Hades."

"No, you're just upset at Hades," he corrects, unhelpfully. "But go on."

"Well, there was this reporter, and he took a picture of us that he spread with these terrible lies," she recounts, eyes darkening scarlet, thorny red vines sprouting from her hair. "And I told Hades to just let it go, but he went and plucked his eye out, and now my whole class and my friends hate me."

"Oh please, that's not why you're really mad."

"Excuse me?"

"You're just jealous that he didn't ask you to help, Bringer of Death."

"EXCUSE ME??"

"Can you guys get a fucking room or something?" the guy in front of them complains, abruptly cutting into their argument. There's a brief silence as the three of them just look at each other before he's thrown out the window, courtesy of Ares. 

"SERIOUSLY??" 

He grins down at her, a fire behind his eyes. "Oh come on, I know you like it. You can't fool me with your perfect little goddess act, Kore."

"You- I- Arrrrgh!!" she growls at him, which only eggs him on. He can practically see the steam pouring out of her ears, anger rippling off her in waves. It's beautiful.

"Come on, little goddess," he presses on. "Don't you want to let go, just this once? Show these ridiculous wannabes what real power is?"

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

"What, you'd rather wait in line all day than talk to me? Are you even going to get to him before he leaves?" Her expression wavers, and he grins wickedly, knowing he's finally gotten his hooks in. "C'mon, Kore, let me take you somewhere. Anywhere you want."

There's a split second where he can see her almost consider taking him up on his offer, but she hides it in fake contemplation. "Tempting. No thanks."

"Just once, let go of the perfect little goddess act. You can't fool me," he purrs in her ear, reveling in the way it sends a shiver down her spine. "Doesn't it get exhausting, being so nice all the time?" he presses on. "I hear you at night, I know how much your heart craves war."

"You don't know what you're talking about." But even as she says it, he knows he's won. He can feel hot anger bubbling up in her chest, bleed into her limbs. She wants nothing more than to leave with him, let him take her wherever he wants.

There's something else, too. Something.... Hurt, broken. She's so good at hiding it, but it's so deeply intertwined with her anger, he can feel it like it’s his own. What could have possibly made her feel this way?

"Fine." Her answer interrupts his thoughts. "Let's go."

He grins, triumphant. "Where to, little Kore?"

"I don't care," she says flatly as she steps out of line, leaving Ares no choice but to follow. "Anywhere."

Her demeanor adds to his worry, but he shakes it off as she steps out the window he just broke and flies off. Well, isn’t that a fun little trick. “Where’d you learn to do that?” he asks when he catches up with her, watching her avoid his gaze by taking in the quickly-passing Underworld below them.

“I don’t know, it just happened one day, when I was with…”

“With Hades?” he teases, trying to get a reaction, any reaction, out of her, but she just continues flying silently beside him. The longer it goes on, the more worried he gets. Persephone’s overflowing emotions is one of his favorite things about her, and it was shocking to see how much had changed in such a short period of time. 

Silently, he leads them to a generic apartment in lower Olympus, a place he picked long ago for its quiet and discretion. Ordinarily, two major gods landing on a balcony was just begging for paps and trouble, but here there isn’t even a flutter of curtain. Besides, even a God of War needs a little quiet. 

“I thought you lived with Aphrodite,” Persephone says once they’re inside. Right, she’s friends with Eros now, so she must have been to their place. 

“I do, but we both have our own places, too,” he explains. “Sometimes we just need some quiet.”

“And that’s okay?”

“Of course. Everyone needs space sometimes, even in love.”

She frowns, mulling over his words while picking at her ruined dress. He can’t take it any longer. As much as he likes to irritate her, this cat and mouse game isn’t fun when she’s so obviously struggling. Gently, trying so hard not to scare her away, he motions for her to sit on the couch while fixing some drinks. 

“What happened, Kore?” he asks, breaking the heavy silence as he sits beside her and presses a drink in her hand. “Was Olympus that bad to you?”

She stares at the honey liquid in her glass for a moment, that same flat expression on her face. Even as she takes a sip, drinking way too fast if her grimace says anything, her eyes are clouded in apathy. It’s… scary.

“Everyone was right,” she says finally. “I’m just some dumb village girl, and I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Okay, who the fuck is calling a Goddess of Spring a dumb village girl? Because that’s about to be the last mistake they make.”

“They don’t know, they think I’m just some minor goddess.” She pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around her knees. “School is so different, they care about such stupid things. Having friends is so complicated, and my mother keeps sending TGOEM to butt in and keep me in line. I didn’t even know I could do this many things wrong!”

“Ah, fuck the rules, they’re all bullshit anyways. And fuck your mom in particular, she’s a bitch.”

“Ares!”

“She beat me up with a pitchfork!”

Shock and indignation lights up her face at his crass tone, quickly replaced with almost hysterical laughter. Even so, it’s such a relief to see her laugh, he can’t help but lean in, tuck a stay lock behind her ear. “There she is.”

It’s not entirely unexpected when she pulls him down and kisses him, though there is some aspect of surprise. Her fingers tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his arms around her waist, pull her close, relishing how small she feels in his arms. She’s so eager, chasing after his lips. It’s nothing like that time he kissed her in the mortal realm. She was so hesitant and shy then, but now it’s like she’s desperate, deepening the kiss in no time. Not that he’s complaining. 

This is just a distraction from whatever she’s facing and he knows it is, but that’s okay. He meant it, that he would do anything if only she asked. Anything she wanted.

She makes such a cute little noise when he lays her back on the couch, a sound he desperately wants to chase after. He nips at the curve of her neck, reveling in how sweet she smells, like flowers on the cusp of bloom. It’s more intoxicating than any drink. His lips explore her skin while his hands wander at her thighs. Everything about her is so soft, but… 

It takes him a second to realize how still she’s gotten, just lying beneath him, not even putting her arms around him. When he pulls away to check on her, she’s crying, eyes blood red and staring blankly at something beyond the ceiling as vines tighten around her crown. 

“Persephone?” There’s a sharp stab of panic through his chest. Shit, did he misread what was happening? “What’s wrong?”

“Is it over?” Her voice is so small, and she won’t look at him.

“I’m sorry, do you want to stop?”

“We can stop?”

It’s such a simple question. Such a strong reaction for such a simple question. His vision is red with the blood he will soon spill of the disgrace of a being who made her feel like she had to ask that question. 

It takes some effort to squash his anger, his violence, down, but he does for her sake. She’s scared and upset, and he doesn’t want to make that worse. Slowly, gently, he pulls her up into a sitting position, takes his coat off and drapes it over her shoulders. She pulls it tight around her, practically disappearing into it. The red slowly drains from her eyes, streaking down her cheeks like tears of blood. It feels like an eternity before she finally stops crying, stops shaking, the vines in her hair retreating. They sit in silence, Ares doing everything he can to give her time, giver her space, without truly leaving her alone.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally, so quiet he can barely hear it.

“No. That’s something you don’t ever have to be sorry for,” he insists as gently as possible. “Are you listening, Persephone? Never apologize for making your boundaries known.  _ I’m _ sorry, for not checking on you sooner.”

She doesn’t respond, just burrows further into his jacket. He lets her sit like that a while, thinking, plotting. 

“Will you tell me who it was?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

More silence, interrupted only by his body’s demand for blood. “What’re you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about that for now.” Slowly, trying not to spook her, he tilts her chin up to make her look at him. It’s just a guiding hand, no strength behind it, so she can resist him if she really wants to. “Who makes your little heart scream for war? Will you tell me?”

Excruciating silence. A battlecry.

“I’ll tell you.”


End file.
